Like a Good Soldier
by wff-writer
Summary: Chris Argent has an epiphany. Rated T for one cuss word


Title: Like a Good Soldier  
Author: wff-writer/lilsister2  
Pairings: none. Sorry. I hate myself too.  
Word Count: 1440

Summary: Chris Argent has an epiphany.  
A/N: What? I was in a shitty mood. I had only opened this document to write a summary to be written in the future and this popped out. It's.. I.. oh whatever. Read if you please. I would please you did. -^_^-

**Like a Good Soldier**

Like a good soldier, he surveyed the scene before him. It wasn't the one he had been expecting; the Alpha, who they had been hunting for, kneeling over the fallen McCall, repeatedly telling him to get up and screaming his name.

Wolf's Bain soaked arrows were being pulled back, poised to fire and glowing gold eyes were edging up out of the dark forest from behind the dying boy.

There was a bigger, but obviously still submissive puppy, whining next to his downed comrade and frantic Alpha.

He saw his daughter's blood shot eyes and tear stained face as she strained to escape the arms of her secret lovers best friend who was bowing his head and refusing to see the scene unfolding before his eyes. She was calling out to a heart that was progressively beating slower, begging for eyes to once again open.

His father was shouting war cries and giving orders to advance, while he himself marched towards the centerfold of the battle; his sword unsheathed and ready at hand.

It seemed like a scene out of a movie. He'd seen many war movies and even more battle scenes. It was always troublesome to him when he couldn't inform the main character that he was about to be attacked from behind. He thought it was ludicrous that they weren't aware of their entire surroundings.

A simple glance to the side would tell them impending doom was upon them. When he was small he had yelled at the t.v. on numerous occasions and had been scolded for losing control. He was an Argent and Argents don't lose control. Not even in the comfort of their own homes.

As the years progressed he learned to hide his annoyance at the stupidity of the idiots who went to "see what that noise was", instead of just shooting in the general direction. Eventually he was able to completely be unphased by the movies. These people would always turn around too slowly, or walk into the exact room of the killer, or fall during a chase, or be stabbed from behind; because it would never be written into the scripts to have one extra person around to say a simple, "Hey!".

In the movies, they didn't travel in groups because that was too realistic. In reality, you weren't alone, you had backup and could trust them to say that Hey! if it were needed. In reality his father was about to cut down a distracted Alpha who's entire family was murdered by his own daughter. In reality he was an Argent. In reality, they traveled in groups. In reality, these were werewolves. In reality they were werewolf hunters that fought the supernatural and disregarded codes and slaughtered innocents and, Fuck Reality!

"HEY!"

In a split second, like a trained assassin, he had moved to position himself behind his father, sword raised to a transforming Derek Hale, and jab the tip of the arrow on his crossbow against his back.

A silence he'd never understand fell over the entire area. Hale had stopped transitioning, his daughter had stopped screaming, the Stiles boy had even looked out from his inner world he had seemed to retreat into and all available hunters had trained their weapons on him.

"Shoot me and he dies. I've already pulled the release."

No movement. No sound. He would have to work quickly.

"Alison. Come."

She had rushed to him, only pausing briefly as she passed the reason for her familial betrayal. He gave her enough room to trade spots and carefully take possession of the bow with it still ready to fire should her hands fall for any reason.

As he pulled the still raised sword from his father's hand, he knew that would be the last time he would ever feel the hands that had offered him so much dichotomy in his life. A cruel sense of discipline and a type of security that could never be hacked. He did love this man, but he did not agree with him.

He dropped down next to a pale frame with a large one leaning over him protectively. When he reached into his pocket he remembered a second too late that you never make sudden movements around those who are trained to kill. Without his ingrained reflexes he probably would have had his face bitten off by incredibly sharp and protruding incisors.

"Hey! Calm down. I'm going to help. Trust me."

With quick precision the creature made his distrust known with a, "Why the hell should I?"

He had only to gesture slightly with his head towards the man standing at "gun" point a few feet from them. When he faced the wolf directly once again he would never believe what he saw. A beast was crying. He cared for what he considered his family. He was mourning the thought of inevitable death. Not because he would lose power but because this boy was important to him. He was important to him like the Argents respective care for his daughter. He may be an unworldly creature, but that could only be half of what made this being whole.

For centuries they had fought, hunted, and killed these things for not being what was so obviously staring him right in the eyes. A human.

He slowly this time pulled a small tube from one of the pockets on his pant leg. After opening the lid, the distraught beta visibly greened and shied away. The smell he figured. He went for the Alpha's hand, only to have it snatched away and claws come out ready to strike.

Then the body below them stopped its shallow puffs of air all together. The Alpha was frantic. Snarling with red eyes and bared fangs.

"Do something!"  
"I am. I said trust me. We don't have a lot of time."

And trust was reluctantly given. Holding the clawed hand over the tube, a cut was made along the palm and blood was drained into it. It always amazed him how quickly they healed. After swirling the contents for a few seconds, Argent poured the liquid into the messy gash made from the piercing and then ripping out of an arrow.

Time itself seemed to slow down in order to give the concoction enough time to work. A quick glance at his offspring would tell him that the murderous intent in her eyes was not only for her grandfather, but she wouldn't have to worry about that soon enough.

The boy inhaled roughly, coughing up some blood. The older wolf grabbed his face in his hands breathing a sigh of relief.

"Scott!"

He wanted to smile at the sight before him but had forgotten how. Instead he stood at attention and returned to trade places once again with the only thing that had ever given him true joy in his life. He wished then that things had gone different. That he hadn't been born to this twisted blood line. He wished he could have more time with this beautiful angel that now only looked at him with pure hate and disgust.

Once relieved of her duties she traded glaring at him for rushing to the side of their once sworn enemy. The Alpha scooped up the dazed Scott and turned to him.

"What about you?" He knew there was no real concern there, just common decency in the form of a 'Thank you'. He was satisfied with that.

"Tell the kid I'm putting all my money on him. He better take care of my daughter."

He saw her eyes flicker with understanding and then glaze over with fear and dread. She tried to go to him but there was that best friend kid again; holding her back. Good for him. He was the smart one. She cried out for him but was dragged back into the shadows against her will and for her own good.

The Alpha nodded once and turned into the darkness, surrounding golden orbs receding along with him. Quit the commander he thought before returning his attention back to the matters at hand.

"You know you'll pay for this?" His father seemed to have misread the situation. He seemed to think he'd be administering anything after tonight. With his last thought being that of a small child, in a spring time white floral dress, smiling up at him and calling out daddy with pure innocent, naïve love in her eyes, he softened the grip of his hand.

It was only half a second after the air was clipped that numerous gunshots rang throughout the forest and caused a creature of the night to pause slightly while cradling a passed out overgrown boy and a pretty girl to drop her head into her hands and cry until the sun would rise.


End file.
